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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347309">Heart for a Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aozora111/pseuds/Aozora111'>Aozora111</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Invader Zim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drama, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Fluff, For a Friend, M/M, Plot, Some Plot, ZaDr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:20:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,289</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347309</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aozora111/pseuds/Aozora111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's almost Valentines day and students are forbidden from throwing meat at each other this year! So, new plan! Too bad Zim doesn't know what a heart is. Or does he?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayTh3Great/gifts">KayTh3Great</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I started writing this for a friend but I hadn't had a proper creative outlet and with the motivation of doing it for a friend it is now 4+ chapters I've already spun around in circles drafting. I haven't been into this ship tbh since I was younger SO</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Between the fluorescent lights' incessant buzzing and the brain gears of students nearly just as loud belonging to grubby bodies, flooding the hallways and crushing each other –Zim, as he were, begrudgingly wishing he was amongst a real flood. Seething to himself, however, he had almost missed a stunningly brilliant opportunity– a sign in the main corridor, en route to the cafeteria, that many of the students stopped to gawk at, clotting up the flow. </p><p>   Zim scrutinized their glassy gazes;<em> '</em>probably caused by the lack of sufficient nutrients the education system provided', he thought. But that was neither here nor there. Following their dead eyes was a giant posterboard, white with lace trim and bold pink and red paper hearts pasted onto it with what looked like an eight-year old misfortunate child with an adoration of glitter had spat up on. It was about the brightest thing this dull school had ever seen. In fact, it  was so bright that Zim had to squint his sensitive eyes, blue color contacts giving no respite against the harsh colors as he wondered how none of the human filth's eyes had caught fire yet to the sheer intensity of— oh wait...nevermind. </p><p> Snagging a thankfully dimmer sheet of paper stapled to the side of the monsterous creation of which detailed the event, he read to himself.</p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>~ <span class="u"><strong><em>Give Your Heart</em></strong></span> ~</p><p>
  <em>It's time to share the love!! <span>♡</span> </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Due to parental complaints (^w^), students are forbidden from throwing meat (owo) this year</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Do you have someone or something YOU LOVE?? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Well, time to show them your TRUE HEART...and give it to the one YOU L O V E...!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The student with the PRETTIEST heart (OwO) will be CROWNED ROYALTY of this school for (1) day (UwU)</em>
</p><p><br/>
</p>
<hr/><p><br/>
</p><p>Zim almost vomited reading it, but it had been worth the risk. He looked up from this sheet, looking around suspiciously before carefully folding it up and concealing it in his jacket pocket before darting away behind a set of rusty lockers. Zim let out a shrill, most evil laugh. How such a devious prospect be so easily handed to him—but of course! For he was <strong>Zim </strong>and even the universe (this one, at least) knew when to comply with his demands.</p><p>  He shall make that pesky Dib-thing give him his heart, smiting him once and for all– and with it, Zim shall conquer first the school and then, the <em>entire </em>planet. </p><p>It's<em> almost </em><em>too easy</em>...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After a dreary walk home from school, Dib dumped his belongings on the kitchen table, spilling its contents of what seemed to be a mound of robotics and/or spy gear and about two mounds of textbooks. </p><p>  "Hey Dib, could you grab me a soda—" </p><p>  "Ssh, not now, Gaz!" Dib started, opening their refridgerator door and grabbing a soda for himself, popping open the lid and downing a gulp, "I just racked up some new gear from tech class and I already might be onto some new intel about Zim and—" Dib let out a yell, spilling his root beer, the sticky, brown liquid soaking between cracks in the tile as Gaz kicked him in the shin with muddied biker boots.</p><p>  "Listen, Dib. It's bad enough the school cancelled our meat throwing and now the teacher is making us do those <em>stupid </em>heart things for art class like we're still in middle school or something but I will <em>not </em>listen to you squeaking about Zim for another hour, <em>got it</em>?" Gaz grabbed the last soda, slamming the fridge door and muttering her way upstairs to her room, leaving Dib to his literal own devices.</p><p>  Dib could barely go to reach for a paper towel to sop up the pop before the doorbell chimed. In a half-hearted attempt to wipe his feet so he didn't track soda through the house, he sighed dejectedly, quickly walking to the front door, hoping it wasn't another one of those mini-mooses witnesses. </p><p>  Twisting the handle, he opened it up and froze, coming face-to-face with his arch-nemesis.</p><p>  "Zim," Dib said, calmly, trying not to sweat, "What are you doing at my house?" </p><p>  Dib could see Zim was dressed up in his usual human garb (all of it a lie and he knew so). but what caught his eye, was between Zims arms, splayed open, was a book just a <em>tad </em>too big for the smallish creature. He didn't quite have a chance to read the cover as Zim cleared his throat, tucking said book under an arm and saying (in a very matter-of-fact) way, </p><p>   "Will you go on a date with me?"</p><p>  Dib fumbled for a moment, adjusting his specs yet refusing to take his eyes off the being's form, questioning the validity of it while he let out a strained, "Hhugh?" </p><p>  Zims eyes remained fastened to Dib, in a hint of a scowel. For as big as Dibs head was, his ears must have been very tiny.</p><p>  "Will you go on a date with <em><strong>Zim</strong></em>?!" Zim screeched, impatiently. </p><p>  Dib wiped his glasses with the hem of his shirt and pondered this for a moment. His brain scanned every likely, bad, horrible, horrific scenario this plan of Zims may lead him, and then, with a mental smirk, <em>all </em>the ways it could go backfire. He <em>was </em>asking, after all; isn't that right? And this gave him time to prepare for the worst– or for the best! Though, still taken a bit aback by the initial prospect. Dib wondered if he even knew what it meant. Pushing those thoughts aside in favor of his already stage-five brainstorm, Dib smiled. </p><p>  "I would love to." </p><p> Zim was already rapidly tearing through the pages of his oversized book, eyes sporadically darting up to meet Dibs in a puzzled expression. 'Truly,' he thought, 'I didn't think I'd get this far'. </p><p>   Finding the correct topic, he shut his book thusly and firmly stated, "Movies. Five p.m. Sunday. Deal?"; he held out his gloved hand.</p><p>  Dib warily inspected the limb, fearful of any electric shockers (as this was nowhere below Zim's level) before, like the start of a truce, shook his enemy's hand. His mind, elsewhere. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>   When Five o'clock that Sunday had rolled around, Dib had almost let his excitable nature get the best of him. Exemplo anxius had barely left enough room in ones imagination as he made a fool of himself up and out the door that day. And in doing so, made Gaz almost more annoyed than usual as he had been flinging himself about more than usual. Even their moreover obliviously busy father had noticed Dibs eagerness that morning and decided to comment on it. </p><p>  "Ooh, are they pretty?" Prof. Membrane joked, flipping pancakes as Dib nearly choked on his orange juice, the acidity burning. </p><p>  "What?" he coughed, eyeing his family members distrustfully.</p><p>  "Oh, come <em>on</em>." Gaz sneered, fork clenched in hand, "Everyone here knows you have a date today; you haven't shut up about it". </p><p>  "I knew you'd find love, my son." Membrane croaked, setting his kitchenware aside and going over to Dib, placing a hand on his young DNA's shoulders, tears threatning to seep out from under his goggles, "I knew that one day, you would leave your silly sci-fi's to the side and—"</p><p>"It's Zim." Gaz interjected, face as flat as a board.</p><p>  Prof. Membrane looked down for a moment before he straightened up again and retracted his hand from Dib's shoulder. He cleared his throat and turned away to finish plating food.</p><p>  "Well," he chimed, back to his perkier self, "If I seem disappointed, it's not because you're gay!"</p><p>  "Dad—" Dib started but it fell on deaf ears as Gaz snickered. </p>
<hr/><p>Meanwhile, Cold wind blew outside the cinema doors and light dots of snow sprinkled onto Zim's non-acclimating body while he shuffled in place. Whether out of coldness or impatience, Zim had not the patience to ponder. </p><p>  Letting out a sigh that sounded more like a hiss, he caught sight of his target as a recognizable fringe of black hair turned the corner attached to that...just...<em>ginormous </em>head. </p><p>   "So," Dib smiled, nonchalantly as he walked over to Zim,"I'm here!"</p><p>Zim checked his newly calibrated 'planetary-temporal-keeping-device', forehead raised as he found himself immediately calmed. He was not left abandoned after all. But of course not. </p><p> The film the two had chosen to venture into was a simple black and white, fifties-style horror that had been re-released in theaters not long ago. The movie apparently followed the story of a horrific alien creature (which looked suspiciously like a regular ant) that infested its way into the earths core.</p><p>  Dib had barely been paying any attention as he surveyed their environment, alert for any traps. Meanwhile, Zim kept having voracious moodswings from bored to being in absolute hysterics as the movie progressed and throwing Dib into 'code red' at his sudden outbursts. </p><p>   "This movie shall <em>burn </em>for its lack of realism!" Zim shot, knocking over a nearby bucket of buttered popcorn in the process.</p><p>  Dib, grown used to Zim's offbeat jerking around at this point, and growing continously invested in the movie, grabbed Zim by his sleeve and yanked him down, saying through gritted teeth; </p><p>   "<em>Zim, sit down, you're gonna get us kicked out.</em>"</p><p>Zim, angrily about to retort and rain hellfire down upon the puny Dib who dared order him, when Dib's grip loosened slightly and Zim, for a fraction of a second, caught a hint of anxiety in the humans eyes. Yanking his arm back to his side, Zim plopped back down into his seat, frustrated and suddenly not in the mood to argue.</p><p>  After about cycling through the entire myriad of emotions from Zim that <em>Dib </em>ever had the displeasure of bearing witness to (though, eventually going silent), the movie credits had begun to roll. Dib turned his head and was about to comment on how (despite the slight filler, eh, something about the alien and its leaders? 'Far too emotional for a horror' Dib had thought), the film hadn't been so bad. He only gave into confusion at what he saw; a pale, green face, eyes faintly glistening under the flickering screen light. </p><p>  Dib quickly turned his head back to face forward, seeing nothing. </p><p>  On the way out, Zim's remarks had started back up again; more about the movie in terms of realism as his chatter failed to cease once more. And for a bit, Dib did not mind listening to the mindless ramblings as he tossed their leftover foodstuffs in a nearby bin and proceeded to exit the building.</p><p>  "But the effects were decent." he shrugged. </p><p><br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*Fingerguns*</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. IV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On Monday, during homeroom, Dib felt a peculiar prodding in his back. He turned around to be greeted by a false pair of blue eyes.</p><p>   The next school week had been full of its usual humdrum necessities yet among them lay an uncertain difference in atmosphere. Unfamiliar pokes emanating from the seat behind him soon became familiar jabs. A note came into his grasp here and there, and lunches spent in the library or computer lab, time often spent toying with blueprints ultimately ceased as Dib's time became absorbed in something surprisingly different. </p><p>   Sure, Dib had never quite had other friends, especially around his <em>vast </em>intellect, let alone maturity. Besides, he seemed to be the only being in the city aside from his family, Zim and some choice citizens who didn't suffer from brain-rot. It never helped either, that Gaz was barely any company at the best of times, favoring her video games over her own brother—or anyone else for that matter. Not to mention their tirelessly busy father whom often shunned Dib's interests; and of course, Dib and Gaz's nonexistent mother. </p><p>  Currently home alone, as Dibs father had promised to take Gaz to a video game convention over the weekend, Dib felt relieved. His furious note-taking from his laptop quelled despite his inner monologue, begging him, telling him that he knew better. But somewhere along the way, it got lost. Out one ear and...out the other. If he hadn't been without a friend, especially for as long as he had, perhaps things would be different. He felt like a tower, crumbling under the weight of a sand granule. The most he could do (although he would never admit it) <span>was </span>hopefully watch.</p><p>  The first page of notes laying open upon his screen, eyes skimming his own words, cursor blinking. </p><p>
  <em>'But why?_'</em>
</p><p>  Dib snorted. Obviously Zim was a foreigner to this planet and had shown its beings nothing more than distaste. And according to what Dib had picked up from Zim's homeworld, its inhabitants were never particuarly fond of him either. Even his leaders went so far as to send him as far away as inhumanely possible to be rid of him. Galaxies over, in fact. It was almost sad. </p><p>  'No,' Dib thought, 'It is sad'.</p><p>  The boy sighed and shut his laptop, choosing rather to twiddle his thumbs as he lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, brain in a clump of teenage disillusionment. Perhaps if he had been more of a sports-goer as a child, he would be tossing up and catching a stray baseball. </p><p>  February twilight sunk his room into a dusty magenta and gold through his heavy, parted window curtains, splashing color unto the normal, boring lab-palette theme. From where he was, he could only see powerlines and tips of suburbia rooftops, and a single fluffy cloud; far softer than anything seemed on earth. Dib lingered on this sight for what felt like an eternity when (and far too suddenly for his liking,) a green blur crashed into his window with an almost 'splat!' shaped like some familiar logo Dib swore he had seen somewhere on television. </p><p>  Letting out a yell, he bolt up from his bed, <span>grabbing a makeshift weapon out of a drawer that he electrically engineered himself, a trash taser, if you will,</span> and ducked under his desk. With a groan, the green blob slid the unlocked window up only barely and half-falling, half-crawling inside the room through the slit. </p><p>  "Zim?" Dib asked, recovering from a near-heart attack, almost relieved. </p><p>  Zim was motionless on his backside, on the floor of Dib's room, no disguise in sight and without much expression to go along with his entrance.</p><p>   "Zim—what are you doing here?!" Dib yelled, </p><p>   "That place we were going to go," Zim started, "Yeah, it's closed." </p><p>   "It's Sunday! We were going tomorrow after school!" </p><p>  Zim got up with a groan, rubbing his lower back and pushing himself to a stand.</p><p>   "—Which is exactly why it would be perfect for us to hang out today!"</p><p>Dib, puzzled-ness turned anxious yet again as he watched Zim begin to make himself at home, having to shoo him away from a set of work-in-progresses once or twice, along with some limited edition anime figurines. He let out a frustrated sound.</p><p>   "Zim! Wha—no! It's getting late and—" </p><p>Zim cut him off abruptly, "My house kind of exploded?" he shrugged, "Gir was messing with the plumping to get...nacho cheese to come out instead of water. So while he and my computer are fixing it up, I am here." Zim looked up at Dib, with large, strawberry insectine eyes, "You would let me, won't you?"</p><p>  Before he started to get dramatic, Dib covered his face with a hand, beginning to turn a suspiciously similar shade and just gave a, "Fine."</p><p>   Zim had not waited for this response before hopping onto Dib's bed.This was going to be a long night. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Kay, I'm going to kill you</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. V</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry this took so long to post 2020 has been dramatic and I have art block of every type. Consistency in writing is not my fortê and this is still my first 'longer than a chapter/oneshot' thing I have ever written in my L  I FE</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before Dib could even think, he was being drawn towards Zim by what felt like an unseen force. Thoughts flashed through his mind; quickly yet calmly. He even felt an odd sense of contentment and decided to settle in a nice huddle on the far side of his bed, against the wall. Grabbing a remote, he flipped on a nearby monitor, doubling as a decently-sized Smart TV that he had lately, been mostly using to spy on an old lady next door that he was convinced was a Sasquatch in disguise, ever since her son had been found scavenging through a farmers home in about a nowhere place over from his town. It was all over the news, really! </p><p> Switching over to a nearby network, playing some badly CGI-ed Sci-Fi nonsense, he sat awkwardly, looking at Zim awry for a second. </p><p>   "Do you...want some popcorn?"</p><p>    Zim curled his lip, "Popped corn? I do not wish for it to pop. Just bring me the corn." </p><p>   Dib wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, but managed as he thankfully excused himself out of the room. He wondered for a moment if he ought to worry but brushed it off for his own sanity. Zim, however, was already well-worried as it was. Not in the way Dib was, but, simply put, he had frankly always been put a tad off a these human nests. His obviously was but a fake, but he knew that. And with only a few choice companions and himself residing upon it, he paid no mind. But the holes were so...boxy. And often staggered, for that matter. No glass windows or walls but those to peer outside with? It unnerved him. He needed to investigate for hazards.</p><p> The last time Zim had ever been privy to a proper puny humans nest, it was filled with canisters of their own disgusting earth-brand H2O that sprayed a mist of it every so often. He has barely gotten away with minor scalds after leaving only to return the second time to dump them out and refill them with root beer before making his grand escape again. </p><p>  Zim rummaged through a drawer or two of Dibs, tossing aside what he found. Some trinkets that looked like they fell out of a grocery store toy machine, some sticky rubber hands, snap bracelets, a half-finished rubik's cube, a few small electronic motherboard bits and a game boy with a Pokémon yellow game cartridge– none of these things being immediately explosive. </p><p>  Then, underneath a couple graphic tees folded neatly in about the third drawer down, he found it. A bit of paper slightly sticking out of an envelope, folded just as neatly as his clothes. He picked it up apprehensively, and opened it up <em>slowly</em>. </p><p>  Widened eyes scanning the sheet, he felt his heart(s) sink. </p><p>    "What are you doing?" a familiar voice said sharply from the doorway.</p><p>  Zim jolted, nearly scrunching the frail paper in his grasp, grip feeling just as frail at the sound of Dib's questioning. </p><p>    "Dear...Dib," Zim began, honeying the words as he did so, "...What is this?" </p><p> Dib snatched the paper out of the aliens grasp, "Be careful with that! And why are you digging through my junk?"</p><p>   Too prideful yet slightly guilt-ridden to tell Dib about his paranoia of human devices, Zim shrugged and crossed his arms, taking on a defiant stance and staring Dib dead in the eyes. But only for a second.</p><p>  He then huffed in resignation, uncrossed his arms and turned away. </p><p>   "When are you leaving?"</p><p>   "...At the end of this month."</p><p>   "So? What? What about me?" Zim demanded, daring to make eye contact again.</p><p>A million thoughts raced through the spaceling's mind of what decisive action he could take. He could scream. He could attack. He could toss all of Dibs belongings out the window along with himself. He thought of possibly casting a long-term revenge on Dib or ruining his plans by sabotage, and a thousand more sub-thoughts ran alongside them. But suddenly, Zim realized that nothing he was thinking seemed like an option anymore. He felt helpless and weak. But he was <strong><em>ZIM</em></strong>. </p><p>So, he started to cry.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank u and goodnight</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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